


Don't Trust A Holmes To Do A Lover's Job

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awesome Irene, Awesome Irene Adler, BAMF Irene, Domestic Fluff, Established Irene Adler/Molly Hooper, F/F, Fluff, Kidnapped Molly, Kidnapping, POV Irene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 19:58:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5598874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly’s been kidnapped and Sherlock and Mycroft’s plan to get her back is taking far too long for Irene’s taste, so she’s just going to get her lover back herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Trust A Holmes To Do A Lover's Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> So this is another cheer-up fic for my dear **LadyEmmalineWrites1812** , who gave me a drabble prompt of " _Molly/Irene, Rescue, 3_ " and I came up with this. I hope you enjoy it, dear!

She stormed out of Mycroft’s office, fuming. If she had to leave things up to the Holmes brothers she might never see Molly again, and she’d be damned if she was going to let that happen. She knew Sherlock cared about Molly, though not in the same way that she did. Sherlock considered her a friend, nothing more.

Irene considered Molly _much_ more than that.

And if she lost Molly because the plan that Mycroft and Sherlock were putting into play took too long she’d make them pay, and dearly.

Or…or, she could circumvent their plan altogether and rescue her lover herself.

She had contacts. She had people who owed her favours. And, should she need it, she had access to enough firepower to invade a small country, like, oh, any of the three countries in North America. If she needed to, she could gather a small guerilla force to get Molly back, take down all the kidnappers and then ensure that no one in their right mind ever attempted to take her again, or use her in any way to get to Sherlock.

Because when it all came down to it, this was all laid down at Sherlock’s feet. She’d taken care of her own problems and been able to come back from the dead with few problems and fewer enemies left over, and over the years she’d dealt with the ones she had left, either giving them information or dealing with them in…other…ways. But Sherlock kept racking up enemies. He kept irritating the wrong people, stirring up hornet’s nests. And he kept dragging innocent people into it.

Innocent people like Molly.

She wasn’t quite sure how she and Molly had gotten entangled in the first place. Sherlock had kept her close once she’d come back from the dead, and she knew that was the easiest way for him to ensure she didn’t cause any trouble. Not that that had been her intention; she’d learned her lesson well and wanted as quiet a life as possible now. But staying close to Sherlock meant staying close to his friends. She’d hit it off quite well with Mary and Molly, to her surprise. She and Mary had similar past experiences, and they related well.

But Molly…for some reason Molly had intrigued her. Molly had titillated her. She wasn’t sure why, because Molly wasn’t the type of woman she was normally attracted to, either attitude wise or physically, but she was drawn to her. And over time it seemed that Molly was attracted to her as well. Irene had been pleasantly surprised by that, and so the two of them had slowly worked on building a relationship with each other.

And she would be _damned_ if she was going to lose the woman she loved to any enemy of Sherlock Holmes or anyone else.

She made her way out to the street and looked for her driver. When she found him, she slipped into the backseat and then pulled out her mobile, scrolling through her contacts. She had some calls to make.

**\---**

Six hours later Irene was sitting on the sofa at her home in front of her television set, her arm around Molly’s shoulders. Irene was wearing a lavender camisole top with lace edging and lavender and dark purple pinstripe Capri pyjama bottoms, her hair up in a lopsided bun, and Molly was in an oversized pink T-shirt covered in kittens playing and a pair of matching pink sleep shorts. Neither of them moved as they heard the door open and two sets of footsteps come into her home. “Mycroft and Sherlock?” Molly asked.

Irene nodded slightly. “Probably,” she said. She wasn’t surprised the see the two gentlemen in question come in a moment later. She glanced at the clock on her wall. “An hour and ten minutes. I’m disappointed. I didn’t think you’d let us get home and get comfortable.”

“You ruined a perfectly good plan,” Mycroft said, glaring down at Irene as he crossed his arms.

“The kidnapper had a bomb strapped to my chest that he was going to set to go off if you had put one bit of that plan into motion,” Molly said, lifting her head up to look at Mycroft. “So no, it wasn’t a perfectly good plan.”

“I told you it wasn’t,” Sherlock said with a smirk.

Mycroft turned his glare towards his brother. “Shut up.”

“You were taking too long, Mycroft, and I knew time was of the essence. I _also_ knew they would expect someone to try and sneak their way in instead of blowing their way in through every available entrance,” Irene said. “I caused so much mayhem that they went in a panic and the second team was able to go in and sneak Molly out.”

“And no one’s alive, I suppose?” Mycroft said with a sigh.

“Actually, you’ll find everyone with information is quite alive and well and waiting at Scotland Yard, complete with red ribbon,” Irene said. “Have fun with them, Mycroft. Consider them a gift from me.” She tilted her head so her cheek was resting against Molly’s head. “Now then. I think I’d like some takeaway. Wouldn’t you, Molly?”

“Takeaway sounds good,” Molly said with a slight nod. “I just don’t want to get up.”

“Mmm, that is a problem,” Irene said.

“If you don’t mind company, as I’m fairly interested in the story behind tonight, I could go get it,” Sherlock said.

“Do you mind company, darling?” Irene asked Molly.

“No, as long as you don’t plan on spending the night, Sherlock. I do think I’d like to properly thank my girlfriend for saving my life and I get the feeling you don’t want to be privy to that,” Molly said with a smile.

“There are some things that should remain unseen,” Sherlock said with a grin.

Mycroft shook his head. “So I take it I’m being dismissed?”

Irene lifted up her hand and waved her hand. “Yes, Mycroft. Your presence is not needed nor wanted.”

He huffed. “My plan _would_ have worked,” he said quietly.

“Keep telling yourself that, brother mine,” Sherlock said. Mycroft gave him one last glare, and then he turned on heel and left. After the door shut, Sherlock looked at the women. “So, Indian, Mediterranean, Chinese…?”

“Mmm, something spicy,” Molly said, lifting her head up. “Maybe Thai?”

“Spicy sounds good,” Irene said. “I’ll second Thai.”

“If you trust my judgment, I’ll get Thai from Isarn,” Sherlock said.

“You’re not your brother,” Irene said with a grin. “I trust your judgment.” Sherlock gave them a grin and then left himself. Then Irene turned to Molly. “Not quite how I’d planned for our evening to turn out, but…”

“Well, he won’t stay long, but then I’ll have you all to myself,” Molly said, moving closer, her lips hovering over Irene’s. “And then I’ll have you all day tomorrow as well, and I’ll make sure we have no interruptions.”

“Good,” Irene murmured before Molly kissed her. She was thankful that Molly was safe and sound and in her arms, and even if their reunion plans weren’t going _quite_ as planned, it was still going to be a good evening overall.


End file.
